


Let Me Blossom With You

by matchamarimo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Animal Transformation, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, also oblivious Akaashi, just a magical love story overall, on point overthinking Akaashi, soft Bokuto nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-23 00:24:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23269405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchamarimo/pseuds/matchamarimo
Summary: When Akaashi finally opens up the apothecary of his dreams, his first visitor is a friendly, cuddly, and very chatty salt-and-pepper cat.But, as all magical stories say, this is no ordinary cat.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 33
Kudos: 355





	1. The Cat

**Author's Note:**

> Literally as I was finishing this story for posting Chapter 387 released and let me tell you... I'm an emotional Kageyama stan  
> (´;ω;｀)
> 
> I had a heck of a time writing this one! I've been meaning to do a full bokuaka story for some time, so here we are. This was supposed to be a 2k oneshot at best but then I started adding characters, tropes, extra scenes, and...yeah lmao
> 
> enjoy!

The little white house wasn’t perfect, but it was beautiful.

The previous owner was an eldery witch, long due for retirement, and Akaashi could tell by her longing glances out the windows that she wished for an open place, somewhere that faced the sea, perhaps, and days filled with more golden sunlight than this old valley and its rolling clouds could provide.

She sold the house to Akaashi for a good price—much cheaper than he’d expected, to be honest, but it was probably because she felt bad for the amount of maintenance that he’d have to do. And he’d definitely had a mental list going as he toured the place, making note of the outdated burgundy walls, the ancient floorboards, a loose window pane that had a bad tendency to unlatch without warning, what was definitely an extended family of possums living in the attic, and a rather maudlin ghoul that haunts the basement bathroom.

But the house was beautiful, comfortable, and had a gorgeous sprawling garden, and Akaashi brought it without a second thought.

He spent the first week on a mad cleaning spree, dressed down in old jeans and a plaid shirt as he dusted every corner, ripped out the flooring, and tore down the ancient shelving units that looked like it might collapse at any second. Then came the rather violent wash, where he scrubbed the entire place down until it sparkled and every bit of grime stuck to the window panes and pipes were wiped clean. After a lengthy battle with the possum family upstairs (it involved a lot of screaming from both parties, Akaashi nearly falling off his roof, and tiny feet pattering frantically everywhere), he took a drive to a nearby city, where he brought new flooring, paint, and any other miscellaneous hardware supplies he suspected he’d need.

It was hard work, but for the first time in a long while, Akaashi felt like he was doing something right for himself.

The final product was a fresh, tidy house—smooth grey tiles in the storefront, a seafoam-blue coat on the walls, brand new hardwood shelving, and an antique chandelier hanging from the ceiling, casting a warm, glowing light around his shop. He’s already started unpacking some of his work tools in the new space even though his supplies and stock won’t be delivered until next week. He’s excited and eager for a place to call his own. The storage in the back and the living space for himself upstairs still needs some work, but right now, the apothecary he’s always dreamed of was finally coming together.

* * *

It was a quiet Tuesday evening when his first visitor arrived.

Akaashi isn’t expecting anyone—not at the late hour, and definitely not when his store isn’t even open for business yet.

But his guest is an unconventional one; for starters, they didn’t even enter his store through the front door. Instead, as Akaashi is carefully unwrapping his favourite set of mortar and pestle, the tricky front window gives an alarming rattle before it unlatches entirely, and a furry mess of grey and white comes tumbling in with a yowl, knocking over a pile of books as it does.

Akaashi nearly drops the pestle in shock. He hurries out from behind the counter, instinctively grabbing one of the heavier scales with him as he does, but he needn’t have worried, really. Sprawled on the floor underneath his books is the biggest, most graceless cat he’s ever seen in his life. The creature is twisting and turning, making truly pitiful meows as they tried to crawl out from beneath the heavy, leather-bound volumes. Akaashi sets the scales aside.

“Hey now,” he murmurs, carefully lifting the books. The cat jumps and spins around, looking up at him with wide gold eyes. It’s gorgeous; its fur is a soft salt-and-pepper colour, its ears are perked and twitching, and its tail is a long, floofy one. Akaashi smiles and sets the books aside, holding his hand out to the cat. It gives his fingers a little sniff, a tentative lick, and then it’s immediately rubbing against his palm, demanding a scratch. Akaashi laughs and gives the cat a light rub under the chin.

“You scared me,” he says. “I thought you were the possum family coming back for revenge.”

The cat tilts its head and gives a little  _ mrreow? _

“They’re sneaky little bastards,” Akaashi nods. “Had a whole nest going upstairs in my attic, and I hate to shoo them off, but it’s not very sanitary to have wild animals living in the same place I sell perishable goods in. You’re not a wild cat, are you?” he adds, squinting, and the cat makes a very definitive  _ meow! _ before leaping up, landing on Akaashi’s shoulder and leaving him with a face full of fur. The cat smells like grass and earth.

“Hey! That’s not very nice—oh, wow, alright then.” Akaashi sputters when the cat turns, giving him a perfect view of his rear end, tail held jauntily up high. “Well, you are definitely very male. Who do you belong to, mister cat?”

_ Mrreow _ , the cat purrs, the vibrations rumbling down Akaashi’s shoulder and arm, which isn’t much of an answer. He sighs, carefully stacking the books back, and stands to shut the window. He really ought to get it fixed—who knows what kinds of new visitors might drop in too?

The cat curls around his shoulders, making himself comfortable, and Akaashi wonders if this animal might be someone’s familiar, or companion. This isn’t normal cat behaviour, is it?

“I still have to finish unpacking,” he tells the cat. “You can hang around, if you want, but don’t touch anything, alright?”

The cat rumbles again, bumping his head against the side of Akaashi’s cheek. When he walks back to the counter, the cat jumps down from his shoulders, loops through the supplies he’s laid out, and immediately settles in front of his collection of scoops, tilting his head this way and that, as though checking his reflection on the polished metal surfaces. Then he grins, opening his jaw to reveal pointed teeth, and makes a huffing sound, almost like a laugh.

Definitely not normal cat behaviour.

But Akaashi’s not too bothered; he’s seen more than his fair share of magical animals growing up, and this cat doesn’t seem like it’s up to anything nefarious, so he continues to unpack and stack away his supplies for the night. The evening passes by rather uneventfully after that, with the cat watching Akaashi work, and occasionally sniffing at his jars and pots. It’s only when Akaashi yawns and gives a bone-popping stretch that the cat stands, pads across the counter, and gives Akaashi a series of chittering meows.

“You’re leaving?” Akaashi blinks, and the cat turns around a few times in a circle. “I guess you do belong to somebody then. Well, you shouldn’t keep them waiting.” He walks over to the door, unlocking and opening it. The bell tinkles and the cat leaps off the table, but lands in a weirdly unsteady heap on the floor before slipping outside. Akaashi chuckles.

“Come back anytime,” he says to the cat, like he’s a customer, and the cat gives him one last  _ meow! _ before he runs down the stone path and disappears into the bushes on the side of his lawn.

* * *

The cat doesn’t come back for a few days, and despite the amount of unpacking and organizing he’s going through, Akaashi can’t help but wonder what the funny creature is up to. He hopes the cat is well—he’s never met a cat that can’t land properly on its own feet—and has taken to peering outside into the bushes when he’s on a break. It feels a bit foolish to wait for an animal, though, so Akaashi tries to stay busy with his work. Not that he has a lot of downtime, in all honesty.

With the storefront ready to go save for his stocks of herbs, plants, and other magical items, Akaashi has been alternating his time between painting his new sign, printing posters for his new store, and decorating his living space upstairs. All his life he’s grown up in the coldy grandiose and spacious rooms of the Akaashi family manor, with looming marble statues and towering shelves full of delicate artefacts, untouchable magical tools, and rare, ancient texts.

It’s nothing like the little house he now lives in, with ceilings so low that he has to duck to get through the rooms sometimes. He moves his plants in, letting them acquaint themselves with the tiny balcony and the cramped spaces of his bedroom and kitchen windowsill. The radiator rattles ominously sometimes, but never fails to warm his entire bedroom. The old witch also left behind some furniture, all of which are mismatched but well-loved, and he puts up some new paintings he purchased from a little art store in town.

The house is small, humble, and absolutely nothing like the manor. Akaashi loves it.

His shipments are due to arrive any day now. Akaashi goes to the bank, takes out some loose change and bills, hangs up some fliers at the public bulletin boards, and drops by the old antique store in town to purchase a historic-looking cash register.

There’s also a nice set of bowls that catches his eye; a twin set of blue and white ceramics, glossy from the lacquer painted over top. He purchases them and picks up a bag of organic kitty treats from the pet store before he could think too deeply of it.

* * *

He’s in the storage room in the back, sorting through bags of dried herbs when he hears the window rattling in the front again. There’s a squeak, a thump, and a series of indignant meows. Akaashi grins, unable to help himself, and walks back to the front.

The cat is standing in the middle of his store, head thrown back as he meows in the most dramatic fashion. When he catches sight of Akaashi walking into the room, he meows eagerly and takes a running leap for the counter, nearly slipping off the edge when he lands.

“Careful,” Akaashi admonishes, lifting his hand for the cat to sniff and rub against. “You’re not very steady on your feet, are you?”

The cat turns his nose into the air, huffing indignantly.

“Well, it’s the truth. Hey, now, don’t pout.” The cat is definitely pouting. His ears are all droopy now, tail swishing low, making sad clicking noises.

“Here, I wasn’t going to show you yet, but…” Akaashi reaches underneath the counter and lifts up the two ceramic bowls. The cat perks up. “I brought these for you. Figured you might like a snack and a drink if you stopped by, right?”

The cat meows again, loud and insistent, and Akaashi laughs. “Yes, alright, just one moment.”

He fills one of the bowls with cool tap water and shakes a few treats into the other; he sets them down underneath the open window, the busted latch swaying cheekily in the afternoon breeze, and the cat immediately goes in for the food bowl. He lets Akaashi pet him as he eats, happily crunching the little snacks.

“I’ve got to be careful not to spoil you,” Akaashi muses. “I’m sure your owner would not be too pleased if you gained extra weight from my snacks.” He ruffles the soft fur behind pointed ears. “Hmm...have you got a name? Well, I’m not sure if you could tell me even if you did have one. May I give you one?”

The cat pauses in his snacking, tilting his head up to look at Akaashi. His gold eyes are bright in the sunlight.

“Mister Pepper? Is that alright?” Akaashi asks. “You have such lovely fur.”

A happy meow is the answer, and Akaashi takes that as a yes.

“Do you know my name? Akaashi,” he says, pointing at the brand new sign hanging outside, the wood painted a matching seafoam blue with a neat white trim. It reads  _ Akaashi’s Apothecary _ in crisp block letters. The cat peers through the glass, then back at Akaashi.

“Ah-kaah-shi,” Akaashi says, sounding each syllable out.

Nothing could’ve prepared him for the fresh torrent of meows that come his way. The cat looks far too excited, jumping up onto the windowsill and twisting and turning, meowing at the top of his voice.  _ Meeeeeerow! Meeeerow. Meeeerrrooooow! _

Somehow, Akaashi feels like he’s opened up some kind of an unspoken floodgate with that one.

* * *

The apothecary officially opens on a sunny Wednesday morning, and Akaashi is pleased to see that there’s a small crowd of curious people hovering outside his shop. He doesn’t live too far away from the town, which is a bright and bustling place, and he’s sure a lot of people knew the old witch, who did some kind of fortune telling in her home from what he recalled. He’s nervous, but he’s ready; he dons his apron, welcomes everyone in, and hands out samples of healthy herbal tea while his new customers peruse his shop. He can tell a lot of people are surprised by how young he is—herbology and the healing arts are not very trendy subjects for aspiring young magicians to study. It’s an age-old subject full of cumbersome and outdated practices that even Akaashi finds boring at times, and a generally more looked-down upon branch of the magical arts because of the amount of labour and hands-on work involved.

But he sees the way young children stare with wide-eyed awe at the blossoming plants he keeps in his terrariums, the relief in his elderly patrons’ faces when he tells them he  _ can _ procure a spell and herb mixture for their ailments, and finds that he doesn’t mind the work at all.

He’s just finished packing and sealing a set of roots and crushed bark for a patron complaining of painful headaches when he hears the familiar squeak and rattle of his front window.

“ _ Kitty! _ ” a girl yells happily, and all the children rush over to where Mister Pepper sits on the windowsill, preening under all the sudden attention he’s getting. Akaashi almost laughs out loud. He wipes his hands down and brings out the bag of treats.

“Is he your familiar?” a boy asks when Akaashi walks over.

“He’s just a friendly neighbourhood cat,” Akaashi says. “I call him Mister Pepper. Would you like to give him a treat?”

“Yes please,” the boy breathes, excited, and Akaashi is suddenly swarmed by children asking to feed Mister Pepper treats as well.

“Just hold out your hand to him, like that,” he tells the kids. “It’s okay, he’s very friendly. You can give him a little scratch between the ears too, if you want.”

Mister Pepper eagerly gobbles down the proffered treats and accepts the pets, but when Akaashi starts to move away he takes an almighty leap and barely manages to stick the landing on Akaashi’s shoulder.

“Cool!” one of the boys yelled.

Mister Pepper purrs, rubbing his chin all over Akaashi’s head, belly rumbling like an engine. Akaashi gently lifts him off his shoulder and settles him at the corner of the counter.

“No cat fur in the herbs,” he says, pretending to be stern. That earns him a lengthy set of meows and chitters, but Mister Pepper stays dutifully seated, and only leans down to let children pet him on the head when asked politely.

“What a well-behaved cat you have,” a woman chuckles.

“He is,” Akaashi agrees. “Just very talkative.”

“Ah, well, cats have their own plans, don’t they?” she says, and then requests something to help soothe her stomach pains.

It is, at the end of the day, a very successful opening.

* * *

Mister Pepper stays well past closing time, long after the sun has gone down and Akaashi has flipped the  _ Open _ sign to  _ Closed _ , counted the day’s earnings, and turned off the lights in his store. He follows Akaashi around, sniffing and poking at the boxes, and when Akaashi starts to head upstairs he circles the bottom and gives a tentative little meow.

“Would you like to stay?” Akaashi asks. “I’m making fish for dinner.”

The grey-and-white blur that zips past him up the steps is a definite yes.

He pan fries the fish that night, steams some vegetables on the side, and pours himself a nice glass of wine. He carefully cools off a portion and spoons it into Mister Pepper’s snack bowl, sets it on the table across from his own, and enjoys a lovely dinner with a cat.

When he’s done the dishes, Mister Pepper plants a furry little paw against the window, giving Akaashi an expectant look over his shoulder. Something funny turns in his chest; it’s a little bit sad, perhaps, but he opens the window all the same.

“Thanks for dropping in today,” Akaashi says. “Everyone loved you. Feel free to come by again any time.”

Mister Pepper bumps his head cheerfully against Akaashi’s wrist before jumping out the window, aiming for the long tree branch but nearly falls out because of his terrible balance. The entire branch shakes and leaves spiral to the yard below.

“Be careful!” Akaashi yells, heart pounding, and he doesn’t dare close the window until he sees Mister Pepper land on the fence and the jaunty grey cat tail vanish into the shrubbery of his backyard. “Good grief, this cat.”

He changes for bed, satisfied with his day, and curls up for a well-deserved sleep.

* * *

The loose window latch remains unfixed after that.

* * *

Mister Pepper becomes a bit of a fixture in his life. He’s the apothecary’s unofficial mascot; his good manners and cheerful attitude is a hit with the children and mothers when they drop by the store. Akaashi buys more treats, adds a few cat toys to his repertoire, and eventually allows Mister Pepper to ride on his shoulders around the store as he explains various the medicinal properties of different herbs, roots, and plants to curious customers. He also starts to accumulate a healthy group of regulars.

There’s Sarukui, a cheerful young man who drops to pick up loose leaf teas for his grandmother, and Washio, the son of a carpenter who frequently asks for a spell and medicine to help his father’s joint pains. There’s a chatty magician’s apprentice named Konoha who likes to swing by for snacks and inquire about herb samples his professor wants, and two ladies named Yukie and Kaori, cousins who own a bakery in town, who wanted to start a contract with Akaashi and sell his herbal teas at their store.

They’re cheerful folk, all of whom take to Akaashi quite easily despite his naturally quiet and reserved personality. Akaashi finds that he doesn’t mind their company either, because they’re content to let him work while they talk, but mostly because Mister Pepper seems to like all of them.

He figures he ought to wonder more about Mister Pepper’s owner, because despite the cat’s frequent outdoor wanderings, he’s definitely looked-after. He’s still got fluffy, pristine fur, neatly trimmed claws and a clean, earthly scent to him. He’s considered putting up flyers a few times in the town, asking if someone knows the owner of the cat, but decided against it—Mister Pepper never stays overnight, and always seems to wander off with a confident little trot, like he knew where he was going. Maybe his owner didn’t care, or didn’t mind their animal companion wandering around, and Akaashi certainly wasn’t going to question it. Not when he enjoyed Mister Pepper’s company and ‘chats’ so much.

* * *

Early spring bleeds into the start of an early summer, and business continues on as usual. The valley comes to life in the summertime, with blooming flowers and lush green grass, and the very air seems sweetened by the scent of nature.

Akaashi’s in the middle of drafting up tentative plans for a greenhouse in the backyard on a slow afternoon when it happens.

Mister Pepper, who had been napping in a spot of sunlight by the squeaky window, jolts upright without warning and goes off on a loud, meowing tirade. Akaashi looks up, confused, and then he sees the flurry of black feathers and a large, familiar raven settle on the windowsill outside. His blood runs cold.

The raven taps her claw on the glass, polite but insistent. She’s holding an envelope between her beak.

Akaashi drops his pencil and stumbles over on wobbly knees, his heart beating frantically in his chest. Mister Pepper meows at him, circling the windowsill in confusion, but Akaashi gently lifts him aside and shakily opens the window.

The raven hops inside, shakes her feathers once, and holds the envelope with her beak. His name,  _ Keiji _ , is written in neat, inky cursive on the pristine white paper. He takes it.

Mister Pepper meows loudly, hopping back up onto the windowsill, and noses at the raven. He’s not being pushy, but he does seem a bit cautious, if a bit defensive. The raven makes a loud squawk, shakes her feathers in a rather self-important way once more, and gives Akaashi a knowing look before she hops back outside and takes to the air. Akaashi closes the window robotically. He turns the envelope over, where, stamped over the flap, is a familiar blood-red wax seal.

He’s both unsurprised and disappointed that she’s found him already.

A quiet little meow catches his attention again. Mister Pepper gazes up at him, golden eyes watching him steadily, and Akaashi shoves the envelope into his apron pocket without looking at it again.

“Not every day we get mail, hm, Mister Pepper?” he manages. The cat rumbles, stretches, and then jumps onto his shoulder again. He’s gotten better at it; definitely not as unbalanced as he used to be, and it makes Akaashi laugh. “You’re right, she was a very prissy bird, wasn’t she? Well, no matter, we’ve got to finish packaging Yamiji-san’s spells. The errand boy will be here any minute now.”

He manages not to think about the letter for the rest of the day, even though it sits like a lead weight in his apron. He sends more packages out, does some supply prep, and spends the rest of his afternoon brewing batches of potions for stock. It’s tedious work, and he entertains the thought of taking on an assistant at the apothecary once he’s ironed out his work schedule.

Mister Pepper hangs around longer that night, happily purring on the counter while Akaashi does the dishes and explains the different parts of his greenhouse plans until the sun has gone down.

“You ought to go soon, before it gets too cold out,” Akaashi tells the cat as he unlatches the window. Mister Pepper mews at him, hopping up onto the windowsill, but before he goes, he stands on his hind legs and plants his little paws firmly on Akaashi’s chest. He stretches up and gives him a tiny nip on the chin, in an almost reassuring way, leaving Akaashi to stare at the cat when he finally drops onto all fours again.

“Uhm. Well, thank you. Don’t worry, I’m feeling better already.”

Mister Pepper chuffs at him, almost like a dog, and then jumps for the tree again and shimmys away into the darkness.

It’s a bit lonely after that. Akaashi changes quickly into his sleepwear and crawls under the covers, but not before fishing the envelope out of his apron pocket. He weighs the hefty paper in his palm, wondering what the letter might say. The seal is a stark colour against the snowy-white backdrop, with the intricate design of the Akaashi family crest pressed into the wax.

He really ought to throw it away into the fireplace, but Akaashi couldn’t bring himself to—he’s a coward through and through, and instead of cutting ties like he’d swore he would, decides to open the drawer in his nightstand and shove the letter underneath his belongings instead. Then he turns off the lights and yanks the covers over his head, falling asleep to confusing and unhappy dreams.

* * *

It’s an uncharacteristically rainy day when an emergency strikes.

Business has, thankfully, been slow due to the relentless downpour that started when the low clouds rolled into the valley mid-morning, darkening the skies quickly. The rain followed soon after, coming down without a warning, and Akaashi had to dash upstairs to bring his laundry in before everything got soaked.

He’s just about to close early for the day when the front door bangs open, making the bell chime erratically. Mister Pepper yelps and leaps onto the counter.

Standing at the doorway is a young girl of about thirteen or fourteen, her brown hair in pigtails and her dress soaked from the rain.

“Are you Akaashi, the magician?” she demands.

“That’s me,” Akaashi says, alarmed. “Is everything alright?”

“Please,” she cries, dashing in and flinging water everywhere. “My older brother—he fell and cut his leg while logging this morning, and we think it’s gotten infected. He’s got such a terrible fever and the cut has gone all blue and purple and Alisa’s worried that his condition will worsen tonight and I—I don’t know what to do!”

Her lip wobbles, tears pooling in her eyes, and Akaashi hastens to her side.

“Let me gather my things,” he says, trying to soothe her as best as he could. “Do you know what region he was logging in?”

“T-The northwest lot over the valley,” she sniffles. Akaashi nods, whipping off his apron. He hasn’t done house calls in a long time, but he’s still got his travel bag packed and stocked, just in case. He goes through his shelf and storage, shoveling jars and packages of anything he feels might be useful; numbing herbs, plants with antioxidant properties, immunity-boosting mixes.

When he returns, Mister Pepper has jumped off the counter top and is busy snuggling up to the girl, purring madly. The girl sniffles and crouches down so she could hug the cat tightly, crying against his fur.

“What’s your name, miss?” Akaashi asks kindly. He rummages through the closet and brings out the smallest coat he has.

“Akane,” she replies, and lets him drape the coat around her shoulders.

“Let’s go, Akane,” he says. “You can bring Mister Pepper too, if you want. I will drive us over.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, and lets him usher her out the door, clutching Mister Pepper to her chest as they go.

The rain comes down in torrents as he drives, following Akane’s directions as best he could with his wipers working overtime. Fortunately, the Yamamoto family lives in a cottage just on the outskirts of the village; Akane directs him up a path in the forest to a large cabin partially hidden amidst the trees. The door opens wide as they clamber out of the car, and a tall, silver-haired man shouts, “Akane-chan? Is that you?”

“It’s me!” she shouts back. “I’ve brought the magician!”

“This way,” the man says, looking stressed. He leads Akaashi through a warm, cozy living room and kitchen, and into one of the bedrooms in the back. A young man with short hair lay on his bed, feverishly twitching, his shirt sticking to his chest from the sweat. The bottom of a pant leg has been rolled up, revealing a deep gash that, true to Akane’s words, has gone blue and purple. A young woman who looks a lot like the silver-haired man is carefully dabbing at the wound with a washcloth and a basin of hot water. Akaashi guesses she’s Alisa.

“Let me take a look,” he says, and she nods, moving aside.

“We think he fell onto a poisonous plant of sorts, in the forest,” she says. “Or came into contact with something on the tree.”

“That seems to be the case,” Akaashi murmurs, digging through his bag. He pulls on a pair of gloves and inspects the wound carefully. “The toxins would normally just cause a rash on the skin and would heal once it’s washed off, but it’s entered his bloodstream from the cut. It’s not lethal, but it’s still not good.”

He pulls out a mixture of jars and packets from his bag and carefully measures out a handful of roots, a couple of dark, plump berries, and a variety of dried plants. “Grind everything together and boil it in a full pot for twenty-five minutes,” he tells Alisa. “Strain any big pieces, cool it, and bring a bowl of it back. Akane, go find as many pillows as you can. We have to elevate your brother’s leg.”

The girls dash off, leaving Akaashi, the silver-haired man, and Mister Pepper in the room.

“Will he be alright?” the man asks, twisting his fingers anxiously. “Yamamoto swore he was okay after the fall, but he passed out as we were eating lunch. I brought him home and he’s gotten worse since then.”

“He’ll be fine,” Akaashi assures him. He murmurs a cooling spell and settles it over Yamamoto before mixing together a paste in his bowl; the scent is sharp and potent, and it turns into a rather unattractive yellow, but the moment he slathers the paste onto the wound Yamamoto lets out a deep, unconscious sigh.

Mister Pepper hops nimbly up onto the bed and settles by Yamamot’s head, purring so loudly they could hear it over the sounds of Alisa cooking and Akane scavenging for pillows in the cottage.

“Your familiar is very beautiful,” the man notes, reaching out to pet Mister Pepper on the head.

“He’s not mine, exactly,” Akaashi admits. “But he is very friendly. And this is his way of helping.”

“Good kitty,” the man hums, and Mister Pepper’s purring grows stronger.

Akane returns with the pillows, and together with Lev, the silver-haired man, they prop Yamamoto’s legs up. Akane brings him a stool, and Akaashi continues to clean the wound and slather it in with the paste until Alisa returns with the potion. They carefully prop Yamamoto up, tip the liquid down his throat, and then laid him back down once the bowl was empty.

“I’ll stay with him for the night,” Akaashi announces as he wraps Yamamoto’s leg and carefully places a healing spell over the bandages. “He’ll have to drink another bowl just before daybreak and I will re-apply the paste. However, his fever should go down by morning, and all that’s left is to wait for the toxins to exit his body naturally.”

“Thank goodness,” Alisa says, hugging Akane tight. “Thank you, Mister Magician.”

“I’m just Akaashi,” Akaashi smiles. “And don’t worry, I’m happy to help. Why don’t you all go get some sleep? You must be tired.”

It takes a bit more gentle nudging, but eventually the siblings head home and Akane trails off to her room, but not before bringing Akaashi a warm blanket and a cup of piping hot coffee that Alise had made for him. The night settles after that, and Akaashi writes a spell to wake himself just before sunrise. He winds the blanket around himself, and Mister Pepper immediately perks up, padding over the soft bedding to plop onto Akaashi’s lap.

“He’ll be alright,” Akaashi hums, stroking along the soft fur on Mister Pepper’s back. “Thanks for helping out. You really have become the apothecary cat, haven't you? I wonder what your owner thinks of that.”

Mister Pepper gives a sleepy meow, and soon they’re both dozing off in the quiet bedroom together.

* * *

True to his word, Yamamoto’s fever breaks early in the morning, and he’s coherent enough to sit up and drink the potion himself by the time Akane wakes and wanders into the room.

“Idiot brother!” she cries, smacking him in the arm. “You worried everyone!”

“Ow!” Yamamoto complains. “Careful, I’m an injured man.”

His sister turns her nose up, gathers a purring Mister Pepper in her arms, and marches out of the room, into the kitchen. “I’m going to make porridge for breakfast. Stay in bed and don’t bother the nice magician!”

“Sheesh,” Yamamoto grumbles, but he’s smiling. “Thanks for your help, Akaashi. We owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Akaashi replies. “Thank your sister, who ran across the village in the rain to ask me for help. Take care in the future, alright?”

“I will,” Yamamoto says solemnly. “She’s a good kid. I think she’s obsessed with your cat now, by the way.”

“Don’t be fooled, Mister Pepper loves the attention,” Akaashi laughs. “He was more than happy to tag along and offer his services.”

“You know, I  _ was _ wondering why it felt like there was an earthquake going off beside my head last night.”

* * *

News of his aid to the Yamamoto family spreads like wildfire, largely because the Yamamoto family is well-liked, and also because Akane seems to have taken it upon herself to spread word of Akaashi’s heroic acts across the city. He finds himself on the receiving end of many compliments, and awkwardly accepts a whole tray of baked desserts and fresh fruits from Yamamoto, his sister, and Alisa one afternoon. A few more house calls come his way, though thankfully none as urgent as the first. Akaashi attends to a man with a cough, a young child with a fever, and a poor girl who developed a rather complicated rash after eating a wild berry.

Business picks up its pace, and Akaashi finds himself swept up in his daily routine and visits from his regulars with Mister Pepper eagerly trailing by his side. In fact, he’s grown so used to his animal companion that Akaashi doesn’t even realize when the cat had made itself a permanent part of his home and shop—the food bowls are always filled with fresh water and snacks, little toys lay scattered around his home upstairs, and there’s a soft, cat-shaped dent in his chair beside the window, where Mister Pepper has taken to napping during the day and sleeping in once he started staying overnight.

It’s nice, Akaashi realizes. He’s busy with work, he’s making friends in the village, and he’s got a cat now, of all things, who’s friendly and somehow manages to talk back at him.

For the first time in a while, he’s truly happy.

* * *

The bell over the door tinkles on a bright summer’s afternoon, and when Akaashi glances up from his rather complicated measurements on his scales, he’s surprised to see an unfamiliar man with dark, messy hair in his doorway.

“Welcome,” he says. “I’ll be with you in just a moment.”

“Of course,” the man nods, polite. “Take your time.”

A subtle kind of energy radiates off him; magical, light, and curious. It pokes gently around the apothecary, and then focuses on the cat bowls on the floor, and Mister Pepper’s favourite stuffed owl lying next to it.

There’s a loud scrabbling noise from the back room, and the man spins around, eyes wide. A second later, a grey-and-white blur rockets across the floor and barrels into the man’s front.

“Holy shit!” the man yells, and Akaashi drops his tin of roots in shock.

“Mister Pepper!” he shouts, but the cat just loops up and circles around until he’s settled on the man’s shoulders, meowing loudly and happily. Akaashi freezes—he’s never seen Mister Pepper do that with anyone else but him.

The man is laughing too, clearly over his surprise, and he’s trying to tug at the cat, but Mister Pepper is purring and wiggling all over him. “You sneaky little  _ bastard! _ Here I was, worried sick about you, thinking you’ve been eaten by a wolf or something, but turns out you were here getting fat on snacks the whole time! Do you have any idea how far I looked for you? I even went to the Royal City, for crying out loud!”

Mister Pepper meows back and tries to put his paws into the man’s eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, obviously you had it good. You’re damn lucky I dropped by to visit Yamamoto the other day; the second he told me about some fat grey-and-white cat, I knew it was you—ow! Ow, you little bugger, get your claws off me!”

“Um,” Akaashi says, hesitantly.

Both the man and Mister Pepper jump, like they’d forgotten Akaashi was there. Something twinges hurtfully in his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” the man says, sheepish. “Where are my manners? I’m Kuroo Tetsurou; I’m an architectural magician from the city over.”

“Akaashi Keiji,” Akaashi says, and shakes Kuroo’s hand when he walks over to the counter. “I’m the herbologist and magician who owns this apothecary.”

“I’ve heard many good things about you,” Kuroo smiles. “You’ve got a really nice place. It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Akaashi murmurs, inclining his head. He glances at Mister Pepper, who finally clambers down from Kuroo’s shoulder to settle himself on the counter top. “You know Mister Pepper.”

“Mister Pepper,” Kuroo repeats gleefully, looking down at the cat, who bares his teeth. “I do, as a matter of fact. I’ve known him for a very long time.”

Akaashi’s heart clenches painfully. “Are you his owner?”

Mister Pepper makes a very indignant noise.

“I’m not,” Kuroo laughs. “Definitely not. But, uh, I do know the person who’s looking for him. They’ve been looking for him for a  _ very _ long time now, because this naughty kitty cat has gotten himself into a spot of trouble! And it’s never good to leave problems of the magical variety alone for too long.”

Akaashi pales. “I’m very sorry,” he whispers, ashamed. “If I had known there was a problem, I wouldn’t have kept the cat here—I should’ve put up signs, or something, but he always came and went as he pleased so I assumed he had an owner he returned to—”

Kuroo quickly waves him off, shaking his head. “No, no, I should be the one apologizing. I wasn’t very careful with him, and he snuck out by accident. He must’ve caused you a lot of trouble when he first showed up. He’s a cheeky brat sometimes.”

“He was lovely,” Akaashi says, casting a sidelong glance at Mister Pepper, who puffs up happily. “It was nice to have a companion around the shop.”

“I see,” Kuroo says, and looks at Mister Pepper for a long moment. “Well, I’m sure there’ll be a chance for him to return in the future. He is a very free-spirited cat, after all.”

“Of course,” Akaashi nods. “He’s always welcome. He’s—he’s not ill, is he?” The sudden thought strikes him with a panic. Has Mister Pepper been sick the entire time? How had Akaashi not noticed? He didn’t know anything about cat care at all!

“No! No, not exactly,” Kuroo says, and scratches his head in frustration. “It’s, ah, it’s hard to explain. But there is a cure for his problem, so to speak.”

“I see.” Akaashi nearly sighs with relief. “Well. In that case…” he trails off awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

But Mister Pepper simply hops up onto all fours and cuddles up against Akaashi’s front, purring softly, and he doesn’t stop until Akaashi gives him a gentle scratch behind the ears.

“Take care, Mister Pepper,” he says softly. When he looks up, Kuroo is staring at him with the most curious expression. Flushing, Akaashi steps back and clears his throat, gesturing awkwardly at the cat. “Um. Please, go ahead. You must be busy; I won’t hold you up.”

“Don’t worry about him, Akaashi,” Kuroo says as he gathers Mister Pepper up in his arms, like he’s carrying a baby. Mister Pepper sits with all his paws sticking up, tongue out in a little blep. “He’ll be back before you know it.”

Mister Pepper gives a bright little meow as if in agreement, and then the bell tinkles again and the two of them are gone, leaving Akaashi alone in a little store that suddenly feels far too empty.


	2. The Man

Despite the hustle and bustle of his store, Akaashi is restless and distracted. When he’s not working, he tries to busy himself with stocking up on potions, placing new orders for supply shipments, and his new greenhouse plan. But his thoughts still end up drifting more often than he’d like to admit, and he blames it on the fact that his feline friend’s departure had been all too sudden. It also doesn’t help that everybody keeps asking about Mister Pepper.

“Mister Pepper’s gone back with his owner,” he tells a particularly crushed girl, who’s on the verge of tears. Akaashi kind of feels like crying as well.

“I thought you were Mister Pepper’s owner,” she whispers, clutching her mother’s hand. Akaashi winces.

“He’s a friendly neighbourhood cat,” he tells her. “Don’t worry, he’s in good hands.”

The girl doesn’t look fully placated, so he cuts off one of the blossoms on his flowers and tucks it into her hair.

* * *

He makes a point of keeping the bowls filled with fresh water and treats, and the little stuffed owl sits propped up on the countertop next to his cash register. A few more days pass, and there’s still no sign of a familiar fluffy tail.

Akaashi gathers the remaining toys after a cat-less week, brings them upstairs, and opens his drawer to store them away for the time being. He catches sight of the corner of a white envelope, and a sour feeling curdles in his stomach. He shoves the toys in and slams the drawer shut.

Another three weeks go by. On a particularly desperate day, he even goes as far as leaving the front window unlatched and open throughout the night, and it wasn’t until he saw the leaves that had blown in the next morning that Akaashi decided he’s being ridiculous about it all. He’s got so much work to do, especially now that he’s doing house calls and packages as a part of his business, and he really ought to look into getting an assistant as well. Then, maybe, he’d have time to spare for his greenhouse.

He sweeps the leaves out, refills the cat bowl, and goes back to work.

* * *

The bell chimes as he’s putting the finishing touches to his  _ Help Wanted _ posters, and for the second time in a month, another unfamiliar man walks into the shop.

He’s broad-shouldered and muscular, skin glowing with a golden tan from the summer sun. He reminds Akaashi of those surfer boys he’s seen in American movies, with his loose board shorts and tight-fitting graphic tee. His salt-and-pepper hair is gelled up and spikey, and there’s something about it that makes a sharp pang in Akaashi’s stomach. He straightens uncomfortably.

The man strides into the store, cheerfully taking in the interior and all of Akaashi’s products.

“Whoa, this place looks really different!” he says, excited. “Everything’s a lot smaller than I remember!”

Akaashi doesn’t know why he’d think that, given that the man has never come to his apothecary before, but he supposes he must’ve visited the house and the old witch in the past.

“Welcome,” he says, because despite his weirdness, this man is a customer, after all. “I’m Akaashi, the herbologist and magician of this apothecary. Is there anything I can help you with?”

The man whirls around and grins at him, golden eyes glinting.

“Akaaaashi!” he shouts, bounding over to the counter. Akaashi jerks back, startled by the yell. “Of course I know who you are, silly! How have you been?”

“I’m—fine,” Akaashi splutters. He tries not to feel too weirded out by the fact that this man knows his name; everyone in the village knows who he is by now, and it’s not a hard guess when he’s the only one working in the store. “Have—have we met before?”

The man winks— _ winks! _ —at him, and Akaashi stares, head swimming in confusion.

“Aw, c’mon, Akaashi! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already.”

“R-really, I don’t think we’ve—”

“Because I  _ definitely _ remember you!” The man says, jabbing a thumb at himself, and now Akaashi is desperately going through a mental list of two decades’ worth of people he’s ever met. An old schoolmate? A co-worker? Someone from—heaven forbid—his parents’ circle?

But it’s no use; Akaashi has definitely never seen this man before. He’s got a good memory for faces and names, and he’s certain he’d remember someone this loud.

“You moved in about four months ago!” The man exclaims, gesturing around the store. “I remember the grand opening, it was crazy busy! And then you went and helped the Yamamoto family, and then  _ everyone _ started talking about you and how kind you were, and then this place has been non-stop since then.”

The man pauses, expectant, and Akaashi could only gape at him.

“Uh.” It’s not much to go on. This man could literally be anybody from the village.

The man drops his hands, pouting, and then his gaze falls onto the stuffed owl.

Before Akaashi could stop him, he gives another enthusiastic yell and grabs the owl.

“You had a  _ cat! _ ” he proclaims, holding the toy up, and Akaashi feels an uncharacteristic burst of anger instantly flood his veins.

Without thinking, he snatches the owl back—how  _ dare _ this stranger touch  _ Mister Pepper’s _ toy—and glares daggers at the man.

“I’m very sorry, but I believe you’re sorely mistaken,” Akaashi snaps, ice seeping into his voice. “There is no cat here. I’d also ask that you don’t simply pick up my belongings, as there are quite a bit of delicate objects in this store. And, like I’ve said before,  _ I do not know who you are _ . So please, if you’re not here with an inquiry, I’d kindly ask you to leave. My. Store.”

The man stares at him, open-mouthed, and for a second the two of them stand frozen.

Slowly, Akaashi comes back to himself, and he slowly lowers the toy, something akin to horror replacing the outburst of anger. Gods, who has he become?

“I—I am so sorry, I don’t know what came over me—”

“It’s okay!” The man cries immediately. He’s not looking at Akaashi anymore; he looks thoroughly dejected and embarrassed. Shit, Akaashi thinks. This is not how the conversation should’ve gone.

“I was—I crossed a line,” the man continued. “I shouldn’t have—assumed, anything, really, Tetsu is always telling me how I’m too impulsive and stuff, and I, uh, I’m really sorry,” he finishes, trailing off. “I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

He’s even pushing his thumbs together like a chastited child. Akaashi wants to groan.

“It’s alright, really,” he says, putting the toy behind the counter. “I apologize for my outburst—I didn’t mean to shout. It’s just been...stressful here, I suppose.”

The man looks up, lower lip wobbling. “Really?”

“Yes,” Akaashi says, and makes a huge effort to pull himself together. “Is there anything I can help you with? On the house,” he adds, because he does feel bad about yelling.

The man fidgets, glancing around the store, and then he catches sight of the posters Akaashi had been working on.

“Are you hiring?” he asks.

“I—yes, I am?” Akaashi blinks.

The man looks at the poster, up at Akaashi, and then takes a deep breath. “Would you hire me? I’m, uh, looking for a job.”

This conversation has gone so far off the rails that Akaashi doesn’t even know what to say. He settles for: “Do you have, um, any qualifications? I understand that this might seem like a simple herbs store, but this  _ is _ a magical establishment.”

The man brightens and reaches for something underneath the collar of his t-shirt. He pulls out a small, gold disc in his palm, which is threaded through a delicate gold chain around his neck, and Akaashi nearly chokes.

“That’s—the Royal Family’s seal,” he stammers, staring at the crest stamped into the shiny metal surface. “You’re a  _ Court Magician _ ?”

“I am!” the man says cheerfully. “Technically I specialize in air-type magic, but I did serve in the army reserves for three years. I’m trained in some healing potions and spells too!”

Akaashi contemplates the fact that in the span of ten minutes, he’d gone from being weirded out to losing his temper to finding out that the strange man in his store technically outranked himself as a magician. He kind of wants to go back to bed and demand a restart for his day.

For a second, he considers rejecting the man, but the rational side of his mind instantly banishes the thought. You don’t get any better than a damn Court Magician.

“How soon can you start? I open at eight o’clock sharp every day,” Akaashi says, and the man perks up instantly, like a cat.

“Tomorrow, if you want!” he beams.

“Very well,” Akaashi nods. “Come at eight, and I’ll give you a run down of the store and your duties. Please don’t wear shorts, and bring close-toed shoes. I’ll have a contract drafted for you.”

“Thank you very much!” the man says, clearly relieved, and sticks out his hand. “I’ll be the best assistant you’ve ever seen! You won’t regret this!”

“Hm,” Akaashi says, and nearly gets his arm shaken out of its socket. “Ah, before you go—what’s your name?”

The man smiles at him, warm and distantly familiar. It’s almost like looking directly into the sun.

“Bokuto,” he says. “My name is Bokuto Koutarou.”

* * *

Bokuto seems like the kind of person to show up late on his first day on the job, but when Akaashi goes downstairs to open up his store in the morning, he sees a memorable tuft of grey-and-white hair outside. When he opens the door, Bokuto jumps up from where he’s sitting on the front steps, polishing off a croissant.

“Good morning, Akaashi!” he says brightly.

“Good morning, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he resigns himself to dealing with this man for an undetermined amount of time in the near future. “Come in, let me give you a tour.”

Bokuto is a surprisingly attentive person, albeit chatty. He takes to the front room and the storage area quickly and picks up on Akaashi’s shelving system almost instantly. Which, Akaashi will grudgingly admit, is impressive—he’s a detailed and technical person by nature, and his system is not an easy one to follow.

Bokuto also asks a lot of questions—he wants to know a bit of everything. Why does Akaashi store his plants in terrariums? Why can’t they keep the fungal products with the powdered herbs? What’s his preferred way of packaging delicate roots? Is that  _ really _ a ghoul in the basement bathroom?

“Yes, it is,” Akaashi sighs, and immediately follows that with, “Do  _ not _ bother the ghoul, Bokuto-san. Trust me, it’s not worth it.”

Bokuto pouts. “I’ve always wanted to see one,” he protests.

“Believe me, it does not want to see you.”

His customers are curious at the newest addition to the apothecary, and it isn’t long before Bokuto has struck up conversations and casual chit-chats with everyone that comes by. He’s got a bright and admittedly infectious personality, is good with both the elderly and young children, and he’s eager to help out even the grouchiest adult that drops by. He whirls around Akaashi excitedly, happily taking Akaashi’s instructions and pulling out the appropriate jars, bags, and containers for Akaashi to work with. He’s like a sponge, soaking up all the knowledge that Akaashi imparts with him, and he’s quick on the uptake given his medical background in the army reserves. Everyone is very enamoured with him.

“I’m so glad you’ve found such a strapping young man to help you out, Akaashi-kun,” the elderly Miko-san tells him happily. In the background, Bokuto is entertaining her grandchildren by pretending to make the flowers talk with different voices. “You’ve been far too lonely since your cat left.”

“Ah, well,” Akaashi says, and tries to swallow around the lump in his throat. He busies himself with Miko-san’s plant-growing spell instead. “It is nice to have a helping hand.”

But it is, admittedly, easier to focus on work and not so much on Mister Pepper when he’s got another person in the store with him. Bokuto likes to talk, and even when Akaashi doesn’t always reply, he’s happy to ramble on and tell Akaashi about every little thing that comes to mind. This is how he learns Bokuto’s age (a year older than himself, unfortunately), his favourite food (barbecued beef), and his hobbies (volleyball, weightlifting, and birdwatching, surprisingly). He tells Akaashi stories from his days at the Magician’s Academy, his favourite subjects, and the one time he got called up from the reserves to assist the front lines. According to Bokuto, it was the scariest moment of his life.

“What about you, Akaashi?” he asks one evening, as they’re wiping down the store after another busy day. “What’re your fears?”

“You can’t just ask people those kinds of things, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi tuts.

“Aw, but I told you so many personal things about me!” Bokuto complains. He leans against the broom and grins cheekily up at Akaashi, who’s standing on a ladder and dusting the top shelf. “You have to give me a bit to work with! Right now, I only know how tall you are and that you’re really good at guessing the weight of something by feel alone!”

“That’s just an acquired skill,” Akaashi replies, distracted. “You’ll be able to do it too, with practice.”

He thinks about it inadvertently— _ fear _ . He thinks about the time he was nine, and had scored below average on one of his tests. He thinks about being sent abroad for school, all alone in a new country. He thinks about coming back and the overwhelming expectations laid out for him before he’d even managed to unpack. He thinks about the night he left home, with nothing but some clothes and his life’s savings stashed at the bottom of his backpack.

He thinks about the recent emptiness of his store, before he hired Bokuto.

“Failure and loneliness, I think,” he says, so quietly he’s not sure if Bokuto could hear him.

But when he glances down, Bokuto is looking up at him, expression soft with understanding, and it’s all Akaashi can think about for the rest of the night.

* * *

Summer passes by without much fanfare, but as August draws to a close, there’s one thing that Akaashi’s looking forward to.

“The Farewell Market?” Bokuto asks, when Akaashi brings it up one afternoon. “What’s that?”

“It’s a market, as its name implies,” Akaashi says. “But it’s essentially a large gathering of herbologists for the end of the growing season. Many of the plants, herbs, fungi, and roots we work with will die off early before autumn begins. At the market, we bring large amounts of our remaining stock to barter and trade with one another before winter settles in and ingredients become scarce. It’s actually quite a popular event.”

“Can I come with you?!” Bokuto asks at once, eager. “I promise I won’t get in your way, Akaashi! I’ll help you carry all your stuff too! You said there’d be other herbologists there, right? Are they all like you? Can I meet them? I really wanna go!”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come,” Akaashi smiles. “But it seems like you’ve given me your answer already.”

Akaashi closes the store early on a Thursday afternoon, with a little sign taped to the outside of his front door explaining that they will be away until Tuesday morning. He enlists Bokuto’s help with packing and moving boxes and boxes of his stock into the trunk of his little car until they literally can’t see through the back window. While Bokuto tries to find some way to slot their luggage into whatever space remained, Akaashi sneaks back into the store and, before he could feel too melancholic about it, unlatches his front window and leaves a fresh bowl of water and snacks underneath the sill.

Then, they jam themselves into the front seats, with Bokuto practically vibrating with excitement and clutching their bags in his lap (having given up on the tetris battle of boxes in the backseat), and set off for the township an hour’s drive away.

The streets have already begun its transformation into the market when they pull into town. Akaashi’s seen it happen before, but Bokuto is wide-eyed with awe, mouth hanging open as he rolls down the window and sticks his head out to watch as they drive by. They settled in their rooms at the little inn Akaashi booked for the weekend, and the next morning, they stacked all their supplies onto a rickety little cart and wheeled it down to the main street where the market would be held over the next three days.

“Akaashi! Look! Those banners are so pretty! Are those fairy lights? Wow, Akaashi, they have food vendors too! Hey, where will we set up? Do we get to shop around too? This is sooo cool!”

There may be others who might find Bokuto obnoxious with his never-ending energy and unstoppable wave of questions, but the longer Akaashi works with the magician, the more he finds that he doesn’t mind the other man at all. Bokuto may be acting like a child at a fair for the first time, but it doesn’t mean he’s stupid or air-headed. They will be busy soon, and Akaashi knows he can trust Bokuto to handle their stall and assist him with their trades. He’s a natural when it comes to connecting with others, his enthusiasm is contagious, and most importantly, he’s got some kind of god-given ability to tell when Akaashi is slowly getting wound up and break through his spiralling thoughts with a happy slap to the back and a cheerful, “Heyyy, Akaashi, let’s take it easy!”

Their booth is near the end of the street, close to the town square. Bokuto nearly drops a box on himself as he stares in wonderment up at the beautiful streamers, twisting and curling all the way up to the top of the fountain set in the centre of the square. Flower wreaths hang from all the streetlamps, intricately woven and decorated with fresh flowers from local florists. Someone had put flower petals to the fountain, adding beautiful spots of reds, pinks, yellows, and orange to the water.

“Come,” Akaashi chuckles, tugging at a dumbstruck Bokuto. “Our booth is over here.”

The space beneath the little white tent is cramped, and Akaashi isn’t used to having an extra person working alongside him, but once the market opens up and the crowds come swarming in, he’s thankful for Bokuto’s presence. Akaashi has only attended the market twice as a vendor, and both times he’d worked for a rather overbearing and self-important warlock that bossed his apprentices around while he sat fanning himself in the shade. This is a different kind of busy, and with Bokuto’s help, he finds the time to talk, barter, and catch up with a few familiar faces he’s seen around the herbologist community in the past.

The weekend flies by too quickly, but by the end of it, they’re pleasantly exhausted, Akaashi’s boxes are now packed full of new powders, spells, amulets, and dried plants that he didn’t have before.

“Meet me in the town square after you’ve showered and rested,” Akaashi says, once they’ve managed to shove all the boxes back into his car (it never does fit quite the same a second time). Bokuto straightens, excited.

“Akaashi! Are we gonna get dinner together?!”

“Mm,” Akaashi nods, and slams the trunk down. “Seven o’ clock. Don’t be late.”

Bokuto never is, though—he’s always on time, if not earlier, whenever he shows up at the apothecary. Akaashi isn’t surprised to see that Bokuto’s already sitting by the fountain when he makes his way over from the inn.

“What would you like to eat? My treat,” Akaashi adds, making Bokuto brighten instantly. “You’ve been a great help this weekend.”

“Aw, Akaashi, you’re way too nice! I’ll let you buy dinner if you let me buy you dessert!”

“Sure, Bokuto-san.”

They’d gone up and down the street many times during the course of the weekend; Akaashi always made a point of doing some light trading himself in the afternoons, and slowly began sending Bokuto out on small errands, letting him search for items he thought might be useful for the store as practice. But the streets looked very different tonight—now that only food vendors remained, the other spaces were occupied by craftspeople and fortune tellers, psychics and artisans. Akaashi buys them each delicious veal sandwiches glazed in a spicy sauce, and lets Bokuto tug him all over the square, eagerly inspecting and making conversation with the vendors.

The last day of the market always involved some kind of group festivities, and this year was no different. As the last rays of the evening sun disappeared behind the slants of the roofs, leaving behind clouds painted with reds and oranges and dark blues, the floating candles in the air and the streetlamps immediately bloom with light. A travelling band picks up a sweet, cheerful tune, and a group of people wearing shimmery golden dresses and suits swing into the town square.

“Akaashi! Look, they’re dancing!” Bokuto exclaims, nearly dropping his kebab of soft, dough-ball sweets.

The dancers twirl in a mesmerizing group, all of them glittering gold and clapping rhythmically, gesturing for them all to join. Soon bystanders are falling into the circle; young and old, tall and small. People shuffle and spin, laughter fills the air, and magic begins to burst forth from all sides. Someone creates little firecracker dragons that leap into the sky, another person makes the water in the fountain sway in time with the music. Another magician has cast a spell that makes everyone's clothes glow.

“Wow,” Bokuto breathes, and there’s something about the warmth and amazement in his eyes that makes Akaashi’s heart flutter in his chest.

“Bokuto-san,” he says, and when Bokuto turns to him, Akaashi lifts his hands. Flowers, vines, and beautiful leafy greens burst from his palms, twisting and curling until it forms a crown of plants. He sets it onto Bokuto’s head, taking care not to flatten the other’s signature hairstyle. “Perfect,” Akaashi grins. “You’re ready for the dance.”

Bokuto’s smile widens cheekily, and before Akaashi could say another word, Bokuto grabs his hands and drags him right into the heart of the crowd.

He clutches Akaashi close as they spin in circles with everyone else, feet moving frantically in time with the beat. A woodsy-flute instrument twittles away, the drumbeats grow heavier, and the fiddle and tambourine builds in a rapid crescendo. There’s something ridiculously freeing about the way they are right now—bathed in the glow of the candles and the streetlamps, pressed together in the crowd of people, the energetic hum of magic all around them.

Bokuto leads him through the crowds, his broad form pushing a clear path that Akaashi follows through without hesitation. The idle, fleeting thought that he was a star crossed his mind—how could it not, when Bokuto burned just as bright, with just as much shine?

The song peaks; Bokuto looks at Akaashi, a mischievous little grin on his face. “Hold on to me,” he says over the music, and Akaashi barely has enough time to throw his arms around Bokuto’s neck before a gust of wind envelops them, and they’re airborne.

Bokuto doesn’t take them very high, but it’s enough that people gasp and point up at the two of them, hovering and spinning in time to the music over everyone’s heads. Akaashi yelps when they tumble a little, his stomach flip-flopping in astonishment at Bokuto’s air magic. His feet kick out instinctively as he floats like a bubble in the sky, bolstered by the wind. In turn, Bokuto squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. Someone is laughing, and it takes Akaashi a second to realize it’s himself. He feels lighter than he has in months (pun not intended), and Bokuto is laughing along with him, clearly pleased that Akaashi is happy.

The musicians bring the song to a dramatic finish, and Bokuto releases his spell in time to let them tumble back down to earth. Akaashi manages to stick his landing, but Bokuto stumbles, wobbling somewhat gracelessly on his feet even though it was his own magic.

Realization slams into Akaashi like an oncoming train.

The crowd whoops and hollers around them, pleased by their little magic show, and Bokuto beams.

“How was that?” he asks breathlessly, still clutching Akaashi’s shoulders. Akaashi looks up, forcing his fingers to unclench their grasp in the back of Bokuto’s shirt. The flowers have come slightly apart in the wind, and Akaashi takes a second to look over Bokuto’s face. The salt-and-pepper hair, the gold eyes, his strange familiarity with the apothecary and the patrons,  _ their first meeting _ —how could Akaashi not have figured it out?

“Incredible, Bokuto-san,” he replies, heart pounding in his chest, and reaches up to straighten the flower crown. His heart is fluttering with some kind of hopefulness, but he doesn’t dare believe it. And yet, the signs all point towards one thing. “Your magic is amazing.”

* * *

Akaashi brings them home in a daze. He kept sneaking sidelong glances at Bokuto the whole ride home, who seems completely oblivious to the fact that Akaashi is experiencing a whole life-changing revelation two feet away from him.

When they return, Akaashi unlocks the front door and immediately goes to inspect the bowls and window; though unlatched, the glass remains closed, and the bowls are untouched. Akaashi exhales slowly, bending to pick them up. Could Bokuto truly be…?

The bell chimes as Bokuto staggers in, trying to balance too many boxes in his arms.

“Akaashi! You’re so mean, leaving me with all these boxes!” Bokuto cries, stumbling over to the countertop. He deposits the boxes with a huff, pretending to wipe sweat off his forehead, but stops short when Akaashi walks over and sets the bowls on the little sliver of space left on the countertop.

“My cat hasn’t come by in a long time,” Akaashi says casually.

“O-oh?” Bokuto says, leaning against the counter in a very poor attempt to look nonchalant. At least, Akaashi can tell it’s an attempt now; Bokuto wears his emotions very openly, and over the course of the summer Akaashi has grown apt to reading his assistant’s moods.

“It’s been a few months now. He always comes through the front window, where the latch has a bad habit of loosening when he pushes against it. But the water and snacks haven’t been touched. In fact, I haven’t seen him since I met you, Bokuto-san.”

“I see,” Bokuto blurts out. “Uhm. You, uh, miss your cat a lot?”

Akaashi sighs and crosses his arms. “I know it was you, Bokuto-san. You were Mister Pepper, weren’t you?”

Bokuto’s elbow slips off the countertop. “I—I’m—um—”

Hurt clenches like a cold, iron vice around his heart. Akaashi bites down on his lip, pushing back tears. No, he won’t cry. He’s angry, and this hurts more than his father’s scathing comments about him, his mother’s cool disappointment in his pursuit of herbology, and even more than the night he ran away from home, but he refuses to cry.

“Stop,” he says harshly, cutting Bokuto off mid-um. “Enough. I don’t care why you didn’t tell me, but I don’t want to hear another lie. You knew how much I cared about you as a cat. So if you’re just doing all this as—as a  _ joke _ , or, or to make fun of me—”

“No!” Bokuto shouts, leaping forward to grab Akaashi by the shoulders. He looks stricken, like Akaashi had suggested he go and run over baby kittens with a car. “Never, I never want to make fun of you—this isn’t a joke, I thought you were the one who was upset I wasn’t a cat anymore!”

Akaashi reels back. He’s so stunned it takes him a moment to form words again. “What on earth are you talking about?”

Bokuto winces, arms dropping to his side. His whole demeanor deflates rapidly, like a sad balloon losing its air. “You were so mad, when I first came back,” he mumbles. “I thought you didn’t like me now that I’m human again.”

Akaashi splutters, gobsmacked. “Bokuto-san, I didn’t  _ know _ you were the cat!”

“Huh?” Now it’s Bokuto’s turn to look floored. “But—but I thought it was obvious!”

Akaashi throws up his hands. “How, Bokuto-san? The last time I saw you, you were on four legs and had whiskers! You’re a six-foot tall human man now! How could I possibly tell?”

Bokuto gapes at him like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing, before a blush colours his cheeks.

“Ah, when you say it like that…” he murmurs, sheepish. “I just—I dunno. I was really hurt when you yelled at me the first day I came back, but I figured I annoyed you because I was too loud, and stuff. I kinda annoy a lot of people,” he adds, laughing awkwardly. “Since cats don’t really talk...and like, it was kinda an accident that I turned into a cat? My buddies and I were testing some magic and it backfired and turned me into an animal. And I got super spooked and ran off and that’s like, a whole other story, trying to function with a cat brain when you have human cognition, but then I met you and you were so nice and gave me all these nice snacks, and I was really hoping to meet you in person once the spell broke. And, well, it didn’t go so good, but I couldn’t turn back into a cat, so I was just...hoping you’d be okay with me working with you as long as we pretended that I wasn’t Mister Pepper before.”

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, flabbergasted.

Bokut cringes. “I know, I’m sorry!” he cried. “I should’ve taken the hint, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come back and bothered you—”

He cuts off when Akaashi launches himself forward and pulls Bokuto down into a tight, crushing hug.

“You  _ idiot _ ,” Akaashi yells, burying his face into Bokuto’s shoulder. “All this time I spent worrying about Mister Pepper when it was  _ you _ all along—I didn’t know that you were human again; I was terrified something happened to you! When Kuroo took you away, I was under the impression you were cursed or sick or something! I thought—” he heaves a breath, and tightens his hold on Bokuto. “I thought I wasn’t going to see you again.”

Bokuto stands frozen for a moment, but then he raises his arms, and Akaashi feels them gently wrap around his shoulders. It’s warm, standing in Bokuto’s embrace.

“Sorry, Akaashi,” he whispers. “I think we both misunderstood what the heck went on.”

“You’re telling me,” Akaashi grumbles, and hears Bokuto laugh weakly. “All this damn time.”

“All this time,” Bokuto agrees, rubbing his thumbs against Akaashi’s shoulders.

They hug for a moment, and then, as though suddenly remembering themselves, untangle and step back hastily. Akaashi fusses with his apron rather unnecessarily, and Bokuto’s whole face is red as he fiddles with the hem of his t-shirt. The gesture is so innocent that it makes Akaashi’s heart soften instantly. This ridiculous man will be the end of him.

“Now I’m curious,” he says teasingly, watching Bokuto perk up. “What happened with that experiment gone wrong? Animal transformations can be a very serious issue, mister  _ Court Magician _ .”

Bokuto grins, abashed and cute. “ ‘kay, you know when like, you think you’re onto something but turns out you’re actually way off? This was one of those moments.”

“I do,” Akaashi smiles. “Tell me more.”

* * *

A weight he didn’t know he had on his shoulders seemed to vanish overnight, and with it came the blessed feeling of sheer _ relief _ .

Mister Pepper was Bokuto. Bokuto was Mister Pepper, and all in all, the friend whose company he enjoyed so dearly was safe and sound in the world.

So why was he feeling so fidgety and shy now, of all things?

With the misunderstanding cleared, Bokuto has become even louder and more excitable, clearly having held back a bit before. He skips into work each day, bright and early, and nearly runs Akaashi over with his cheerful energy. He’s tactile and adorably clingy, and likes getting all up in Akaashi’s space when Akaashi’s showing him the new stock on the shelves. He sits close to Akaashi’s side when they’re crouching in the storeroom, sorting dried mushrooms together, drapes an arm around Akaashi’s shoulder when he’s chatting with a customer, and once, when the ghoul in the downstairs bathroom broke through the lock and wandered upstairs by accident, had Akaashi’s six while the two of them corralled the creepy creature back with the mops and a whole lot of shrieking.

“I take it back,” Bokuto pants, when they’ve finally shoved it into the bathroom and stuck a chair underneath the handle. “I’ve decided I don’t want to see a ghoul ever again.”

Akaashi’s laughed a lot more in the last four months than he has in four years. He’s not quite sure what to make of it, but he knows that, without a doubt, it’s all because of Bokuto.

They’re closing up shop one night when Bokuto turns to him and asks in a surprisingly hesitant manner, “Hey, ‘kaashi, do you wanna go get dinner sometime?”

And Akaashi, sort of distracted by a complicated ratio of wormwood to winter cactus blossoms to powdered horn of plenty mushrooms, just hums and says, “I’m free tonight, what do you want to eat?”

Bokuto stammers out a little diner in the village, looking super caught off guard, and it isn’t until they’d shut down for the night, strolled into town, and taken their seats in a quiet little booth by the window did the thought of  _ is this a date? _ strike Akaashi.

But it might not be, he rationalizes, picking up the menu with shaky hands. He offered to buy Bokuto dinner at the market last weekend, that’s essentially the same thing, right? Just a boss and his assistant, grabbing a bite to each together, no big deal.

Chiyo-san, the kindly older woman who owns the diner and makes the most delicious dumplings, swings by with two glasses of water and cheekily lights the candle on the table between them. A warm glow washes over them, illuminating the blush on Bokuto’s cheeks. The lighting is nothing less than romantic and Akaashi feels the heat rise in his own face.

So… it could be a date.

* * *

One sunny autumn afternoon, during a routine shop clean, Bokuto comes stumbling back into the shop, his apron wet from where he’d apparently slopped soapy water down his front in his haste. The bell chimes erratically as the door swings open.

“Akaashi! Akaashi!”

“Yes?” Akaashi asks, raising an eyebrow, and Bokuto points towards the fence at the end of his paved driveway, past the abandoned tub of half-washed doormats.

“That annoying, stuck-up raven is back!”

Akaashi drops the washrag in his hands; he hastily retrieves it and hurries out the front door.

True to his word, the raven has dropped by again, perched primly on his fence. When she spots Akaashi, she makes a solemn caw and clicks her beak at him.

“Don’t give me that,” Akaashi huffs, crossing his arms. The first time he saw the raven, it had been a surprise, but now that the initial surprise had worn off and Bokuto was huffing and puffing indignantly behind him, he feels a lot more confident facing her. “I have nothing to say to you.”

The raven tilts her head and clicks again.

“No, I did not open the letter yet,” Akaashi grudgingly admits. He doesn’t really want to, truth be told. “What part of ‘I’m leaving the manor and not coming back’ doesn’t she understand?”

The raven caws at him, this time a little subdued, and hops from foot to foot. Akaashi’s gut tightens.

“Wait, what? When? What happened?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Bokuto whispers, looking between Akaashi and the raven in confusion. Akaashi shakes his head minutely, tries to communicate  _ one moment, please _ with his gaze alone. Bokuto pouts, but doesn’t push.

“I see,” Akaashi sighs. He rubs his forehead tiredly. “I’ll… think about it. That’s all you’re getting. And no, before you ask, I’m not coming back.”

The raven flutters her wings and makes one last click before taking to the air. Bokuto sticks his tongue out at her as she flies away.

“Sheesh, what a rude bird! Akaashi! I can’t believe you know someone with such a terrible personality. I’ve met plenty of crow familiars, and let me tell you, nobody is as stuck-up as her.”

Akaashi smiles, though a bit sadly. “That’s Argyla, my mother’s familiar.”

Bokuto splutters, going beet red with embarrassment, and tries to backtrack. “I—I mean, she’s, uh, not  _ that _ bad—”

“Don’t worry,” Akaashi says. “My mother can be plenty stuck-up, you’re not too far off the mark.” He sighs and looks out down the street, admiring the leaves that have slowly begun to turn red and gold. “Come, let’s go back inside.”

They tromp back into the store, and when the door closes behind them, Bokuto glances over at Akaashi.

“She’s been here before. Your mother’s familiar.”

“Yes. You met her once as a cat, I believe.”

“Is everything… alright? Back at home?”

Akaashi purses his lips. He retreats behind the counter, where he feels safest. “I don’t think so. Argyla told me my mother is leaving my father.”

“Oh shit,” Bokuto breathes, eyes wide. “That’s—terrible.”

Akaashi shrugs. “Maybe. Or not. They’ve never really gotten along, and I’m fairly certain they married for the sake of convenience and social status. My father’s family is famous for manufacturing astronomical equipment, and my mother is the Dean of a prestigious magician’s academy—Fukurodani of the Northeast. When they married, they gained a lot of attention from high-end social circles.”

Bokuto gawks at him. “Your  _ mother _ is the Dean of  _ Fukurodani _ ?!”

“She is. She keeps her maiden name for work, though, so not a lot people know we’re related.” Akaashi drums his fingers against the countertop. “In hindsight, I guess it was a smart thing to do; now it won’t cause her a lot of problems during the divorce.”

Bokuto is watching him closely. “Are you okay?”

“I… don’t really know. I’m not on good terms with my father. My mother and I argued before I left home. She contacted me once, when I found work with a warlock, but I quit that job a long time ago. Until I opened shop here, I haven’t spoken to either of them in more than a year.”

“I’m sorry, Akaashi,” Bokuto murmurs. “That sounds like a lot.”

“It’s not all that bad. It’s not a surprise for me, or anything. I’m an only child, and I have no siblings. There’s nobody to worry about other than me, and I’ve been on my own for a while now. I don’t really care for my inheritance or anything, not when I have this shop. And I was never close with my parents anyway.”

“But still,” Bokuto protests. He places his hands on Akaashi’s shoulders, warmth seeping from his palms. His expression is earnest and sincere. “Yes, you might be independent, and you’re the most put-together person I’ve ever met in my life, but you must’ve been lonely too. Just because it’s not a surprise, and just because you’re used to the distance between your parents, doesn’t mean you can’t feel sad about it.”

Akaashi blinks; he’s never thought of it that way before.

“I… yes, I suppose that’s true.”

Bokuto nods at him. “You’re super cool, Akaashi. I know you’ll be okay. But if you ever want to talk, or just need someone to vent to, I’m always here for you.”

“T-Thank you.” The honesty behind Bokuto’s words make him flush. But there’s something strangely calming about Bokuto; for all his enthusiasm and noise, there’s something dependable about him that makes you want to believe it’s all going to be alright.

That night, after reassuring Bokuto that he really was fine, bidding him goodbye and going through his evening routine in a daze, Akaashi crawls into bed and opens his drawer, digging through all the cat toys until he finds the envelope.

His name flashes up at him in his mother’s perfect script. Taking a deep breath, he cracks the seal, pulls out the letter inside, and begins to read.

  
  
  


_ Dear Keiji, _

_ I know that we did not end our last conversation on the best of terms, and I understand if receiving my letter causes you some distress. But I write to you now with a troubled heart in the hopes that you will read it. _

_ At this time, I am planning to separate from your father. This may not come as a surprise for you, but you have always been smart—I am sure you realized long ago that our relationship is not that of a couple that married out of love. _

_ I know that you’ve left home without any desire to return. Despite my stance the night you left, I want you to know that I’ve come to respect your choice. As you may have guessed, I have kept tabs on you, to make sure you were safe, at the very least. Please accept my congratulations on your new apothecary—I know it has always been your dream to open your own shop. _

_ As to the matters of your father and I, I wish to let you know that there are items and assets from the Akaashi side of the family that you are privy to inherit, as there will be from the Ninomae side, regardless of our separation. Even if I have missed the opportunity to show my support for your new store, you will find assistance with your families if you wish to do so.  _

_ I am sorry, Keiji. I realize now after all these years that I have not been a very good mother to you, and I do not blame you if you never wish to see me again. However, I hope you have the chance to read my letter and my apology to you. _

_ Should you ever need anything, my door will always be open. _

_ I wish you all the best. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Your mother _

  
  
  
  


It isn’t a particularly long or detailed letter, but Akaashi recognizes his mother in it. She was never the type to flounder or sugarcoat her words—she’s a precise, detail-oriented person, and hates wasting her time on trivial nonsense. Akaashi has never once doubted that the more blunt side of his personality came from anyone else but her.

Which is why he knows she meant every word of her letter—the separation, the acknowledgement of his shop, her apology. His mother never said things she didn’t believe in, and she definitely wouldn’t have taken the time to write it out on paper for her familiar to bring to him.

He curls up over the letter, sniffling quietly through the tears running down his cheeks. Never in his life would he have dreamed that his mother would apologize to him, or that he’d miss her as much as he did in that moment.

He falls asleep with the letter clutched in his hands, dreaming first of the cold halls from his childhood, then the quiet of his apothecary just before opening hours, and finally, a familiar face with a bright smile, greeting him with a kind of enthusiasm Akaashi realizes has become something he looks forwards to every single day.

* * *

In an uncharacteristic turn of events, Bokuto is late to work for the first time ever.

Akaashi tries to tell himself that it’s unreasonable to panic—there are a lot of reasons someone might not be on time. Bokuto might’ve slept in by accident. Or maybe something happened to him on his way to work. Or he could’ve gotten sidetracked in the village (sometimes he’d stop to help someone who needed an extra hand, or had gotten lost). Or maybe he got caught up in some crazy magical experiment again, and he’s turned back into a cat. Maybe he realized all the emotional baggage Akaashi had on him was excessive and didn’t want to see him anymore. Maybe Akaashi had read into that dinner all wrong and now Bokuto’s weirded out. Maybe—

The bell on the door chimes about twenty minutes past opening, and Akaashi jumps.

Standing in the doorway is Bokuto, panting hard, with a massive blue pot filled with plants in his arms.

“Sorry, ‘kaashi,” he gasps. “I’m—late.”

“Yes, you are,” Akaashi says distractedly, hurrying over. He slides his hands underneath the pot (gods, it’s heavy) and together they manage to haul it onto his counter.

Bokuto grins and lifts the hem of his shirt up, wiping at the sweat on his face, and inadvertently gives Akaashi front-row seats to the view of his broad chest and long torso. Heat like he’d never felt before rushes into his face, and he has to cough and look away. The only other option is the truly massive pot before him, and now that Akaashi can take a closer look, he realizes there’s about half a dozen plants badly stuffed into fresh, overturned soil, none of which look like they have any business being grown together.

“Bokuto-san, what is this?” Akaashi asks slowly, poking at the plants. He recognizes a few of the flowers; there’s balsams, bellflowers, a bundle of gladiolus, and the bold, beautiful red of hibiscus. There’s another bunch of flowers, tiny and white with a soft yellow-orange middle, that Akaashi doesn’t recognize, but they’re beautiful. Where did Bokuto get all of these?

“Flowers!” the man in question exclaims. “I know they shouldn’t all stay in the same pot, but we were kinda in a rush because we didn’t want to get caught, and I figured you would know how to properly repot them.”

“ ‘We’?” Akaashi says, through mounting confusion and alarm. “Who was in a rush? Why were you worried about getting caught? What’s going on?”

“Well,” Bokuto begins sheepishly. “I maaaay have snuck into the Royal Academy’s greenhouses and like… picked out a bunch of flowers for you.” He says the last part in a huge rush.

“Bokuto-san! You did  _ what _ ?!”

“Hear me out!” Bokuto cries, holding up his hands. “You just seemed super down yesterday night, and I was trying to think of ways to cheer you up when I was heading home, and I was talkin’ to Tetsu—Kuroo, you remember him—about it, and we thought of flowers, but like, you’re super knowledgeable about flowers already, so we figured we could get some rarer flowers from the Academy, to make it more special!” 

“You stole from the royal family’s affiliated school because I was a little down?” Akaashi splutters. “Bokuto-san! You could’ve gotten into so much trouble! What if you got caught?”

“Technically, I’m an alumni, so I’m really just strategically utilizing old resources. And it’s not really stealing if someone there helped us pick them out!” Bokuto hurriedly said, when Akaashi gave him a  _ look _ . “Tetsu’s boyfriend is the lead plant cultivator for their greenhouses! He chose them specifically, and only gave away small samples, and I  _ swear _ he was okay with it and I kinda owe Kei about a million favours now but if he wasn’t fine with giving me the plants, trust me, I wouldn’t have been able to get these. Oh, you can keep the pot too, it’s just an old thing Tetsu nicked from his department, ha ha.”

“Oh my god, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi whispers, clutching at the pot. His heart is going to give out on him because of this crazy man.

“I know it’s kinda not really respectable,” Bokuto says, a bit solemn. “And I’m late for work on top of it, but I’ll stay late tonight! And I swear, it was just this once, Akaashi. I just wanted you to be happy. I wanted to make you smile again.”

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi whispers. “You don’t have to steal flowers to make me happy. You do enough of that just being you.”

And at long last, because he’s finally,  _ finally _ certain he’s reading into all of this right, Akaashi places his hands on Bokuto’s shoulders, gently tugs him down, and kisses him lightly on the lips.

Bokuto freezes in surprise for only about half a second, because before Akaashi could pull away, his arms are there and he’s kissing back, squeezing Akaashi tight to his chest.

In response, Akaashi slides his hands to hold Bokuto’s face, relishing in the warmth that always seems to run through him, no matter how cool the mornings were. Bokuto kisses a little stiffly, like he’s almost afraid of what to do next, and there’s something endearing about the way a person with such a big personality could grow shy and soft with his actions. Akaashi presses their lips together again and again until Bokuto starts to relax, bit by bit, and makes a noise of content.

They break apart at the same time, breathing a little heavily, and there’s star-struck wonder in Bokuto’s eyes as he stares at Akaashi.

“Holy shit,” Bokuto whispers.

“Do not go and steal flowers from your alma mater again, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, because he has to be a little bit stern. Bokuto blushes. “But, just this once, thank you very much. They’re all very beautiful.”

“I was thinking you could keep them in your greenhouse, once we get that built,” Bokuto says happily. “It’s a good place to start, right?”

Akaashi’s heart soars.

“Yes,” he hums, bumping his forehead gently against Bokuto’s. “It would be very good.”

* * *

The warmer days melt away into chillier ones, the reds and golds disappear into silvery whites of morning frost, and the lush summer green slowly dwindles into more sombre greys.

But that doesn’t mean they’re any less busy at the apothecary. As the influx of seasonal colds, runny noses and sneezing fits came in, Akaashi’s started keeping packaged remedies for the common cold handy. Bokuto keeps the kettle on during the day, cheerfully handing out samples of hot tea to customers that visit. Then, when even the apothecary starts getting cold, they go out and buy a nice space heater to put behind the counter, where they huddle together like a pair of roosting owls.

Akaashi commissioned Washio and his father to make a series of long planters for his new flowers, and once they arrived, polished and intricately crafted, he and a very eager Bokuto moved the flowers into their new homes.

He also makes Bokuto invite Kuroo and his boyfriend over for dinner, to thank them for the flowers and to apologize for all the trouble Bokuto put them through to get them. Kuroo and Bokuto are a lively pair, troublesome and chatty and prone to making pointless bets, but Tsukishima is quiet and collected, a stark contrast to his cheeky boyfriend. He’s initially cool, but once he catches sight of Akaashi’s collection of particularly rare eastern herbs he relaxes enough for the two of them to strike up a conversation about plant care and troubles with maintaining humidity for enclosed tanks.

Things change, bit by bit, like they always do. It starts with an extra mug in his kitchen cabinet, shaped like an owl, for Bokuto whenever he has dinner with Akaashi. It turns into a sweater left on the back of his armchair, then an extra pillow on his bed, and then Akaashi purchasing a brand new wardrobe so there would be space for Bokuto’s clothes.

Before the winter could settle in, Bokuo climbs into his roof and finally patches up the little hole the possums had made use of all the years before, and together they re-organize the storage room and basement to make room for all the plants Akaashi kept outside. They lie on their stomachs in bed together, with Akaashi’s greenhouse plans laid out before them, sketching out materials and supplies they would need come spring. They fall asleep side by side, warmed by their shared body heat once the snow comes. They hold hands whenever they go for short strolls around the neighbourhood, admiring the scenery in white and the peacefulness of the snow drifting around them.

Change comes in the form of an extra person by his side, a soft touch to his arm or cheek when he needs it the most, and by the time December rolls in Bokuto may as well have moved in permanently.

They fix the window latch together, and leave the stuffed owl propped up against the glass, wearing a little Santa hat.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi tells him one evening, when they’re curled up on the sofa reading. Well, he’s reading; Bokuto is making his teacup and saucer float with his magic, his tongue poking out in concentration. “When spring comes, let’s buy a bigger bed, so we can both sleep more comfortably together.”

“What’s wrong with our snuggling right now?” Bokuto teases, like he isn’t made of muscle and kicks in his sleep like a maniac. Akaashi wonders if he’s trying to learn a dance routine in his dreams sometimes.

“I’ll let you put up that shelf for all your funky magician’s artefacts, how’s that?”

“Akaashi!” Bokuto yells, leaping to his feet and barely managing to catch his dishware in time. “Really? You mean it?”

“Really,” Akaashi chuckles. “I was also wondering if you’d like to officially start moving in with me, but I figured we could go slow and start off with the small things first.”

Bokuto nearly flattens him with the momentum of his hug, shouting excitedly  _ screw going slow, ‘kaashi, I wanna move all my stuff in now! Let’s do it! _

* * *

The little white house wasn’t perfect at the start, but it is now.

And though it often smells faintly of all the herbs and plants stored downstairs, and yes, there’s always been a draft coming through the kitchen window and the driveway is a little uneven and the ghoul downstairs has taken to rattling the pipes when it’s bored, it’s a house that’s now full of laughter and warmth, and most importantly, a home for himself and Boktuo. When he first brought the place, Akaashi had simply hoped for a quiet place to stay and open his apothecary.

Nowadays, it’s so much more than that.

He writes a letter Sunday night and wakes up early on Monday morning, right as the sun comes up, so he could catch the first group of delivery crows as they swoop by. Bokuto is still sleeping upstairs, drooling into Akaashi’s pillow, but he’s a natural heater and Akaashi can’t wait to crawl back into bed.

He pays the crow, lets it secure the letter in its beak, and watches it fly away into the winter morning.

He closes his eyes, breathing in the fresh, cold winter air, feels the sun warm his face, and the quiet, peaceful magic humming around him.

And then, Akaashi heads back up the path into his home, looking forward to an extra half-hour of sleep with his partner.

  
  
  
  


_ Dear Mother, _

_ I hope my letter finds you well. _

_ I know it’s been a while since we’ve last spoken, but I did receive your messages from Argyla. I’m sorry to hear what’s happening, and I thank you for making the effort to let me know what’s going on. _

_ I read your letter as well. I know we’re long past the years of being able to bond as a mother and a son, but I am not opposed to keeping in contact with you. _

_ In the spring, I will be expanding a part of my apothecary with a new greenhouse. My partner and I would like to host a small tour and party at the shop once it is complete. If you have the time, I would be glad to have you visit, and meet Koutarou as well. I’m sure Argyla has complained about him at great length, but he is a kind and talented man, and an important part of my life. _

_ I look forward to seeing you next year. _

_ Your son, _

_ Keiji _

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here's the cottage](https://i.pinimg.com/474x/41/c9/cd/41c9cd55d2182dd2a7ad84cb1dae4ca1--garden-cottage-beautiful-roses.jpg) I based the apothecary on, Bokuto as a [Norwegian Forest cat](https://vetstreet.brightspotcdn.com/dims4/default/fe6725f/2147483647/crop/646x381%2B0%2B36/resize/645x380/quality/90/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fvetstreet-brightspot.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fd6%2Fc7%2F9e5618f24f8ebc2f9ee110b3d804%2Fnorwegian-forest-cat-ap-38tiiu.jpg) , and [the song](https://youtu.be/0X0sLw63KLU) Akaashi and Bokuto danced to at the market (for the best visual/musical effect, imagine that Bokuto uses his magic to make them fly at 1:50!)
> 
> And because I love flower language as well:
> 
> Balsam: adrent love  
> Bellflower: unwavering love  
> Gladiolus: strength of character, honour, conviction  
> Hibiscus: rare and delicate beauty  
> Linaria bipartita: please notice my love for you
> 
> I love Akaashi as a character, because I tend to overthink and panic about the smallest things too. It's probably why I really like writing/reading stories where he has a happy, peaceful conclusion. I'm just so glad that Bokuto still makes him smile in the final arc chapters :)
> 
> thank you for reading!


End file.
